


I would do anything for love (but I won't do that)

by Diaphenia



Category: Spy (2015)
Genre: F/M, Post-Movie(s), Spies & Secret Agents, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:11:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5467829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diaphenia/pseuds/Diaphenia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I know you assume I’m here to help you on your mission,” Rick said, whipping around to face Susan again. </p><p>“That would be helpful."</p><p>“But I’m here on a mission of <em>seduction</em>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	I would do anything for love (but I won't do that)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nestra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nestra/gifts).



“If you would please take your caterwauling, and direct it towards the nitwit I’m rooming with, that would be most appreciated,” Rayna shrieked. “ _Some of us_ need our rest.” 

Susan gave herself one moment to sigh. Just one moment, before leaping out off her futon, glock at the ready. 

She dashed towards the balcony, brushing past Rayna, who was stomping back towards her room. “Honestly,” Rayna said. “It’s not enough I have to read his text messages to you.”’

“Are you reading my text messages?” Susan asked, before shaking her head and slipping out the open balcony door, expecting a herd of gun-toting assholes. 

Instead, she found only Rick Ford, looking up at her from the ground floor.

“What are you doing?” she hissed, eyes darting around. She’d done reconnaissance when they’d checked in, of course, but that’d been hours ago, and given that she was traveling with a cold-blooded criminal Susan may or may not have broken out of prison, she had to be wary. Not only did she have the FBI on her tail-- Elaine had to have guessed by now just who had sprung Rayna-- but she had the ring of arms dealers she was trying to take down using Rayna’s expertise, and they were some dangerous fuckers. “You’re going to give away my position.”

She looked down off her balcony to Rick, who had a ukulele in his hands. 

“You think I didn’t secure the area?” he asked. “This is just some piddly hotel. I secured a mountain just last weekend, to stop terrorists. And you know what mountain that was?”

“If you say Mount Everest I swear to god--”

“Mount Everest.” He glanced around before strapping the instrument around him. 

“Don’t come up,” Susan warned, as she saw him break into a run, grab a trellis, and launch himself in the direction of her balcony. She knew physics, and this wasn’t going to happen, so she braced her thighs and leaned over to try to haul him up. 

By the time she actually got him over, they were both a little winded, and he was more than a little scratched up. 

“You know there’s a door,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. 

“There’s a lot of doors. Doors are a waste of time.”

She pulled him in through the sliding glass door, taking a minute to check for anyone who might be tailing him. But she saw no one, just inky blackness, so she followed him in. 

“I know you’ve got your whole going rouge thing,” he said. “Everyone’s right pissed about it.”

“Rayna’s our best chance to take these guys down,” Susan said. “I had to improvise.”

“I have never been more proud. It’s like I molded you into the spy you always wanted to be.”

“That’s not even a little bit true.”

“I once went so rogue that the CIA hired me _again_ just to make sure I gave them the information I’d learned. I was receiving two paychecks for years.”

She furrowed her brow. “Sarah in accounting would never let that happen.”

“I know you assume I’m here to help you on your mission,” he said, whipping around to face her again. 

“That would be helpful.”

“But I’m here on a mission of _seduction_.”

She felt her cheeks heating up. 

“And that’s why I’m here to sing the greatest love song in the world.” He swung his ukelele back to position, strumming chords that did not add up to a song. 

She ticked off her fingertips. “‘Cherry Pie?’”

“Hokey.”

“‘I Won’t Do That?’”

“Meatloaf ripped that song off from me.”

She brushed right past that. “Literally anything by Whitesnake.”

“Posers. No. The most romantic song I’d ever heard. ‘Le vie en Rose.’”

She raised her eyebrows. “That’s an actual romantic song. Like I really thought you were going with ‘Here I Go Again.’” 

He smiled, playing a chorus’s worth of discordant notes. 

“And not even a little bit the song you’re playing.”

“That’s only because I haven’t added the lyrics.”

If cats were fighting each other, just trying to destroy each other in an alley, maybe over a fish or something, it couldn’t possibly sound worse than Rick singing to her. 

“You know, there are other ways to seduce me,” she said, putting a finger on his lips. 

“I’m not just seducing you, Cooper,” he said, pulling her down to the couch in the corner of the room. “I’ve already done that.”

“Once or twice.” Her face got hot, thinking of Istanbul. And Madrid. And Fairfax, Virginia, home of the CIA Headquarters, where he kept trying to play footsie with her during department meetings. 

“This is me, asking you on a date. If it was a video, it would go viral. Good looking spy asks out another good looking spy, singing like an angel.”

“I have curlers in my hair,” she said. And she didn’t even want to talk about the K-Mart pajamas she was wearing.

“So you’ll look good for our date.” He popped up from the couch. “I was thinking dinner, movie, maybe we could go to the opera. Have you ever been? Or if that doesn’t work, we could go to the zoo. You mentioned having a cat as a kid. Or we could picnic on the lake. I have a boat.”

“Since when do you have a boat?”

“I could rent a boat.” 

“So what I’m getting from this is you don’t even know if you have a boat, and that’s supposed to be highly attractive to me.”

“Listen, you thought I was plenty attractive La Paz, right? I couldn’t even believe the stuff you did to me that night. You were better than when I was undercover for seven months as the head of a drug ring who worked his day job as a porn actor, and those girls were getting paid.”

“Nancy had given me some tips,” she mumbled. “Also, I asked Sharon about that mission! That was barely a month, you were a drug runner, not a kingpin, and you weren’t an actor, you were a _fluffer_.”

“I worked hard!”

“Not as hard as those dudes you were helping.”

“Listen,” he said, spinning around with as much drama as possible. “I am committed to my job. Committing isn’t hard when you know what you want.”

“Are you still mad because I didn’t want to partner up with you against that terrorist cell that was holed up in Iowa? I just didn’t think it was a good idea, for us to work together.”

“Because you didn’t want to go undercover with me?”

“Because you’d literally gotten kidnapped three months before, by that cult in Jersey.”

“You’re derailing the conversation. I’m trying to ask you out and you’re supposed to be falling in my arms, weeping with fucking joy. I once asked out Claudia Schiffer, and she wept.”

“She was probably hungry!”

Reyna’s door slammed open. “Will you two _shut the fuck up_? I need sleep! Do you know what prison is like? The lights never go fully out! I have bags under my eyes, and I am not going to sacrifice even another moment of sleep--”

She was cut off by the sounds of bullets. 

Susan dove into action, pausing only to push Reyna into the bedroom before rolling behind the couch. Rick followed suit, his own gun pulled out from god knows where. 

“Your arms dealers?” he whispered.

“Well, they probably aren’t friends,” Susan said. She pulled out a compact, trying to get a good view reflecting off the television. 

“I’ve got this.” Rick stood up, gun drawn, and sprayed bullets towards the balcony. 

Susan yanked him back down, hard. “Way to give away our position!”

“Time to take this bull by the horns,” Rick said. “There were three of them. I think we can take them all out.”

“Not if you’re dead.”

“I once took out seventeen men with--”

“No, you didn’t. I need you to focus--”

“And I need you to cover me.” Rick made a move to stand, before she yanked him down again. 

“ _You_ cover _me_ , and I’ll take them out,” she said, gesturing wildly.

“I have twenty more years in the field than you do, Cooper.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a hot head.”

“Ok, how about this. You and me, count of--”

“Three!” she yelled, and they both popped up from behind their couch. 

She acted on instinct, taking stock of the room. Rick was next to her, and Reyna was in the bedroom, and anyone else wasn’t supposed to be here. There were three guys in trenches, each of them armed. She discharged her weapon twice, with the guy on the left by the sliding glass door collapsing. Rick dodged something, a lamp behind him shattering into pieces before the guy next to the tv went down. 

But the one by the desk was a tricky asshole, clearly in more or better protective gear because nothing was taking him down. 

“Shit,” Susan said, concerned with just how many bullets she still had. She had more bullets in her suitcase, of course, and in her coat pocket, but it wasn’t like the bullet fairy was going to bring her more. Time for plan B.

“He can’t take us both down,” she murmured to Rick. 

“Like hell he can’t,” Rick said. “That’s a right bastard. If it weren’t for the fact I trained with lion mountains for year just to make sure I’d have cat-like reflexes, I’d be dead for sure.”

“We have to do something--”

Susan was cut off by the bedroom door slamming open. 

“SHUT UP!” Reyna yelled. She smoothly picked up the abandoned ukulele and threw it at the third man, who went down like a sack of potatoes. “I need my beauty sleep.”

As Rick went to check on their intruders, Susan turned to Reyna, jaw slack in surprise. “Since when can you throw? I didn’t picture you for a softball champion. I didn’t even think you could do a push-up. I assume you make people carry your lunch tray. I mostly assumed you needed help putting all that hair in a high ponytail.”

“Please,” Reyna said, coolly. “What else is there to do in prison but strength training?”

“Fair enough. I’m impressed.”

“I’m going to bed. Do not wake me up unless you need me to save your asses again. You two are the best the CIA has to offer?”

“Between the two of us, we’ve taken down dozens, hundreds of--”

“Global superpower? Not for long.” Reyna sashayed into the bedroom, closing the door behind her. 

Susan shook her head, then went to assist Rick. 

“I can’t believe that little bird destroyed my ukulele,” he said. “I built this from hand, using wood harvested sustainably from my homeland.”

“I can’t believe Reyna doesn’t realize we’re going to have to move locations as soon as possible,” Susan said. “Unless she wants to sleep in the same hotel suite as a dead guy and two criminals. She’s getting ten minutes at most before we’re skedaddling.”

“Listen, I’ll take care of these men, but before you get out of here--” Rick grabbed her to his chest, and she gasped before he planted a most excellent kiss on her. She looked up in his eyes, which were _twinkling_. He looked goddamn pleased with himself, like he’d invented the practice. 

“Is this what you wanted to sing about?” she asked him. “Kissing me while covered in some stranger’s blood like that’s not the grossest thing possible?”

“Well--” he said, serious as ever. “Until they write a song about that, about the blood and the danger and the way you keep trying to seduce me while we’re saving the world--”

“You, sir, are the one trying to seduce me--”

“Until someone, maybe the poet Elton John sits down and writes our song, I guess we’ll have to settle for the most romantic song in the world. ‘When you kiss me, heaven sighs’ and all that romantic shit.”

“Maybe when I’m done taking down these arms dealers, we’ll kidnap Mr Elton John and make him write that song.”

“ _Sir_ Elton John,” Rick said, and Susan impulsively kissed him on the cheek, avoiding the worst of the blood spatters.

He was still humming to himself when she hustled Reyna the hell out of there.


End file.
